


A Mouth Like That

by thehighwaywoman



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic, First Aid, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers is a fighty bitey alley cat of a person and I love him for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 01:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17736146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehighwaywoman/pseuds/thehighwaywoman
Summary: A little hurt, a little comfort, and a hell of a lot of teasing. Just another Friday night, and a mouth that was made for getting into trouble.





	A Mouth Like That

Just another Friday night, and business as usual. Bloody, messy business.

Bucky fixes Steve with the fiercest glower he can muster, a glare fierce enough to pin him where he sits. “Would you sit still?”

Does he do as he’s told? Does he, hell. Instead of being properly chastened, Steve grins. He’s sat on the back of the toilet tank, the bathroom having the best light for fixing whatever damage he’s done now, and it’s a hell of a lot easier to mop up whenever there’s splattering. “Ah c’mon, Buck. It’s not that bad.”

Not that bad? Bucky rakes a hand through his hair and glares harder at Steve, who carries on grinning back like a damn fool. Oh sure, it’s a nice enough smile, a smile that’ll get anyone’s blood warm. His teeth are white and pretty where they aren’t lined in scarlet from the cuts on his lips, the inside of his cheeks, his sharp tongue and all the prickles of his pride. It’s a wonder he doesn’t cut himself to pieces walking down the street, let alone when he gets a wild hair to go look for a fight.

Bucky shakes his head. “I ought to haul you back there and kick your ass myself.”

Steve laughs. “What, you think you can take me?”

“If I thought I had half a chance at teaching you a lesson… Ah, nuts to it anyway. Hold still and let me clean you up, see if there's anything left of that mug under all the grime.”

Fights! Bucky’s never known anyone as good at finding them, as bad at finishing them, as eager to throw the first punch when a sane man would turn tail and run away. This time it’d been three on one, and they’d been over halfway to pounding Steve to a greasy paste on the floor of the alley behind the drugstore. All over some -- hell, Bucky didn’t even know what the excuse was this time. Maybe they hadn’t held a door for a dame the way Steve deemed proper.

He narrows his eyes at Steve.

Would you look at him? Cuts on his lips, on his big raw knuckles, and a prize of a black eye blowing itself up a beautiful dark grape, and he’s still grinning. Cheeky little punk even tries to sneak out one leg and wrap it around Bucky’s to tug him closer. Like he thinks he’s got a chance tonight, like Bucky’s blood pressure’s gonna be good for anything except making his ears pound.

Like just the thought of Steve sliding out of those blood-spattered clothes doesn’t get him halfway to hard.

Impatient, frustrated, all the things Steve makes him, Bucky steps back and untangles himself.

“Bucky.” Steve reaches for him even as he pushes at him, his mouth gentler -- understanding, in his way, even if he can’t help himself -- and Bucky gets that, he does. “Would you give me a break? You look like you’re on your way to a funeral.”

"Yeah, well, I’d just about thought I was." Bucky closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling suddenly tired. “Swear to God, Steve, sometimes I wonder why my dumb ass still tries.”

Oh, that one hits home. He can tell. A sharp inhale, and then -- movement, deliberate and clean. Steve leans forward, and there’s the brush of lips against Bucky’s cheekbone, the back of his hand, lightly against the corner of his mouth. When he reaches out this time, his bare toes tickling the back of Bucky’s thigh, Bucky lets him. Takes a deep breath, smelling coppery blood and warm, sweaty skin and Brooklyn ground in far below skin deep in Steve, in both of them. He curls his fingers around Bucky’s and pries them loose, sliding one between his lips and laughing, deep as the harbor, when Bucky shivers despite himself.

“Don’t ask that question,” Steve says, the words warm against Bucky’s skin. Bucky doesn’t have to look to know his eyes are closed. “Just don’t.”

Bucky presses his forehead against Steve. He knows what a victory looks like, with Steve, and it’s made his blood light up again. Look at that, huh? Sparks from the ashes, sure enough. He splays his hand wide against the small of Steve’s back, his fingers wide as they’ll go, marveling at how much of Steve he can cover with that one touch. The small moan Steve makes is icing on the cake, soda sweet.

So he pushes his luck. Wouldn’t you? “Would you just… try not to scare me like that again?” he asks, sliding his fingertips below Steve’s waist. “At least for one night. Could you promise me that?”

“Maybe.” Steve cocks his head to one side. He looks softer now, except for where he’s harder, all angles except where he’s almost feminine here and there, surprising places like the curve of his shoulder and the sweet dip behind his knees. He leans forward, and Bucky knows that his answer is yes, yes as Steve winds both arms around his neck, neither of them thinking about mercurochrome or bandages now. They can do this, here in their apartment, and it’s okay, it’s fine, it’s just fine, it’s good, so good. “Maybe. If.”

“If?”

That second leg comes around to wind around Bucky and draw him in, and that’s better than good, that’s hot and hard and great. The fight’s over, and now there’s nothing but the making up. That’s fine too, just fine.

And so is Steve’s laugh when he murmurs against Bucky’s lips: “What do you think?”

And there it is, right there. Why Bucky’s dumb ass is still here -- always will be here. Even if it is why Steve gets in enough trouble for three men along the way.

How’s anyone supposed to say no to a mouth like that?

**Author's Note:**

> (It's been... two years since I last wrote anything? but I really enjoy imagining domestic pre-war scenes with these two and it was so good to put words on a page again. If there are any egregious mistakes, please let me know!)


End file.
